A first-person sim about judging the dead, equal parts noir and gallows comedy: one desk, one stamp, three eternities.

READ THEM. JUDGE THEM. SEND THEM DOWN.

On the tenth floor — the one where they forgot to cut the windows — the dead line up at your desk. The job is simple, the way a noose is simple: read the file, hear the confession, stamp the verdict. Don't think. They've already thought for you.

🕯 The documents lie. The body doesn't.

A truck driver. A "tragic accident." A grieving widower. The paperwork says one thing — then you pass a candle over the body and the sins surface on the skin in color. Hold the Lens to a family photo and the truth scratches its way out from under the lie. Your instruments don't accuse. They reveal. What you do with the truth is on you.

⚖ One stamp. Three eternities.

Name the sin, lay it on the Itinerary — Hell's nine circles, Heaven's seven skies, Purgatory's seven steps — and stamp it. Throw the sheet into the urn and the flame answers in color. There is no "undo". The fire remembers what you got wrong.

🎙 Every soul is a person you're about to ruin.

Interrogate them across the desk. Present the right evidence at the right moment and watch a polite stranger named "Joseph" become a man named Will as the lie peels away. Hear a child's voice on a 911 tape and decide what it proves. The easy verdict is a trap — the file that sends a killer to Heaven costs you nothing, and everyone else everything.

👁 Who are you to judge?

You weren't always behind this desk. Look through one eye and the office is all procedure and stamped forms; look through the other and the walls remember the clerks who sat here before you. Somewhere in a jammed drawer is a file with your own name on it. Pass enough verdicts and you'll learn what the tenth circle is for.

A case-driven story of damnation and paperwork

• Hand-authored souls with mutually exclusive truths — replay a case, and the same face hides a different sin

• Noir-soaked writing with a clerk's gallows wit — Hell is a workplace, and the workplace is Hell

• Every verdict a different gut-punch: disgust, pity, grief, fury, betrayed trust

• Unholy instruments of investigation — the Candle, the Lens, the Camera, the Radio, and a direct line to Hell itself

• One ternary verdict — Hell, Heaven, or Purgatory — with consequences that brand you, not just the dead

• Two endings: by the book, or by your conscience — and a price for both

The Chancellery is hiring. Wishlist The Final Stamp — the line moves faster than you think.